


The Mistakes Made As Children

by fangwulf



Category: Not Another D&D Podcast (Podcast)
Genre: Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-20
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23231722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangwulf/pseuds/fangwulf
Comments: 5
Kudos: 25





	The Mistakes Made As Children

The elegant, elven figure rested at the desk in front of him, elbows fully splayed. His eyes were so tired. His chair almost had an indentation of where he'd been sitting for hours, going over battle strategies both in his head and on paper. Nothing made sense any more. He had so many people to keep safe in these trying times.  


The pince nez glasses sat at the very tip of his nose. They'd been slipping. He had not been eating as well as he should, maybe. Who had the time? This was the apocalypse. Only one of the Horsemen had been defeated, and this generation's Legendary Heroes were out fighting another of them. They would be back any minute. 

And then he'd have to face another of the Paladin's attempts to apologize. Erathis give him a moment of peace. At least this battle had gotten the halfling out of his hair for a bit. A cruel thought in his head wondered if maybe the Astral Worm would swallow them instead, but it was a passing, vicious barb. It wasn't fair of him. And he didn't really mean it. After all, Lucanus was with them. His only, remaining, living friend.

A skeletal cat peeked out from under his robe, and shoved her bony head into Erdan's gloved hand, as if reminding him he wasn't alone. It brought a small, sad smile to his face. "I'm so sorry, Bubbles. I did not realize you could read minds. But I did think. Living friends. And you are hardly alive."

The undead cat did not seem put off, purring and rubbing in a way that had been painful when he first had raised her, but now seemed comforting. His fingers ran over the bumpy spine, before the cat slowly settled in his lap. The spectral purr vibrated over him. His soul relaxed even slightly as his familiar, too, relaxed. 

It was only a moment before the people of Gladeholm were cheering, hearing the Heroes return victorious. Lucanus' daughter, an impressive young elf druid who showed herself to be powerful in magic and wit. The half-elven fighter who accompanied her, and wielded the hammer of Moradin as if he were dwarven of blood as well. And the child halfling Paladin who had almost destroyed everything.

He wasn't aware he was holding a quill until it snapped in his hand, sending ink over the paper in front of him, as well as on his glove. He looked down, and sighed. "Oh, this will take forever to clean up." He started dabbing at the ink. That was the secret. One couldn't wipe at it and just expect it to be clean. Dab. Soak it up with cloth. The paper would be ruined, of course. But he could salvage some underneath. He hadn't written many notes on there, after all. He hadn't written much since he'd almost...

No.

_He's a teenager, Erdan._

The voice sounded... so familiar. So forgotten, so lost to time. He wasn't even sure who it was. His head lifted. It wasn't Bubbles, that was for certain.

 _You... have to remember. We all make mistakes. Especially in our youth._ Our. He said... our. Was he including himself in that? That disembodied voice sounded so repentant. 

"What... who are you?"

The voice sounded, once again, so sad. Full of loss, of a path it took that it should not have. _I should not have taken that away from you. It's time to give back. What the Lich ... what I. Took. I am sorry, my friend._

He stood up so rapidly that his familiar leapt off of his lap, with that easy cat's grace. She immediately started grooming, as if she had meant to do that entirely, landing in a position that would have been impossible for a human, yet so similar to the elf.

His eyes widened, as he pulled the glasses from the tip of his nose. His hands were shaking, but he had no idea why.

"Ilsed?"

There was a cold hand to his temple, an invisible ... friend? All of a sudden, he was drawn back. Back to a moment that he did not want to see. His parents. In their crypt. What was he doing? His hand was up. Lucanus was screaming for him to stop. Stop... what? Why didn't he remember this? 

The words, unbidden, shot to his tongue. "Do it."

Do... what?

Ilsed stepped from the shadows. A cold hand raising. Had his friend always had this much power? No. No, there was something lending him his power. The story was filling in, as it happened in front of his eyes. This memory, locked away. Changed. For so long. His parents coming to life. The tears forming in his eyes as he moved to embrace them. As that embrace grew tighter. Tighter still. Squeezing the life out of him.

Love turned to pain turned to fear. What had he done? 

What had Ilsed done?

_We all make mistakes, as children. As teenagers. Out of passion._

He saw himself reaching out for his parents. Seeing them killed for a second time, as he cried out. Covered in cuts and bruises, but not dead, thanks to the quick thinking of his friend Lucanus.

_Out of malice, spite._

He saw his angry face turning from Ilsed. Wanting to turn that self-hate into blame. It was Ilsed's fault. He'd done the dealings with the Lich. Never mind that Erdan himself had given that permisson, cleared the path, approved of the mess even after he knew all of the facts. 

_Out of Rage._

The furious fighting between Elves. Ilsed's eyes widening, as he ran off. Blinded as he snarled that no one could know of this. As they worked to clean up, Lucanus avoiding his eyes. 

_Out of love._

Now, he saw something strange. The Paladin. On the beach. Looking... broken. Seeing his home destroyed. His neighbors, completely gone. Dead, floating in the waves. The bodies bobbing with the tide. There was a conversation he couldn't hear, as he looked up. He hadn't ever seen the halfling look so serious. So sad. He was facing a wraith on a white horse. Holding a yellow gem.

He saw the mouthed words, though he couldn't hear it. 

Give him back.

There was a fight, so fast, a swing of his sword. And then. That sword, dropped by the Horseman. A memento. Those broken, sad eyes of the halfling as he looked back to it. Recognizing it. And after being rejoined by his party. Healing them, being rescued. Wrapping it tightly, and packing it with his things with a look that he knew all too well.

That look of uncertainty. That sadness, that knowledge that he had no other choice in the matter.

_Would you have taken that sword, Erdan? Be honest._

"I..." His hand reached for the pince nez glasses that rested on his nose. His mother's glasses.

He remembered. After the mess. After cleaning up. Finding her fallen glasses. He'd taken them. He'd held on to them. He still used them. He didn't think if the Lich had possessed them. He just... picked them up, from the blood and viscera stained floor. The only reminder of what he'd done in this horrific moment. How he'd let his passion get the better of him.

And just like that. The vision was gone. The blurry world returned to his small office. Bubbles was batting at the edges of his robe, a concerned wisp of a thought from the cat. And the soft, faded voice of Ilsed. _I hope. I can once again see you in better times. My friend._

"Wait!" He couldn't help but shout, but it was gone. The feeling of being alone in a room once more. With too much work to do, and too little rest.

Well. Almost alone. The cat still walked between his feet. Trying to lead him over to the cot that was set up. "A short trance. Would not hurt," he said aloud. Rationalizing, as he moved to sit cross-legged. The heroes did not need him greeting them in their return. Lucanus could wait.

He had much to think on.


End file.
